


Unloosing

by mithrel



Category: due South
Genre: Episode Related, Episode Tag, M/M, Massage, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-10
Updated: 2016-07-10
Packaged: 2018-07-22 20:04:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 720
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7452244
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mithrel/pseuds/mithrel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>His back is still sore.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Unloosing

**Author's Note:**

> Coda to "Odds."

His back is still sore.

He shifts uncomfortably in the chair, trying to relieve the pressure between his shoulderblades. The technique Welsh had shown him didn’t help with the pain.

“Hey, uh, you need some help with that?”

Fraser whirls around and stifles a gasp as his back screams at him. “Ray!”

Ray rolls his shoulders, grimaces in the middle of the movement, and stops.

“So, you need some help with that?” he gestures at Fraser’s back.

“Your back is sore too,” Fraser points out inanely.

Ray walks into his office, his customary grace impeded by the stiffness in his posture. “So you do me after I do you.”

Fraser has to close his eyes at that. Ray didn’t mean that the way it sounded. He’s talking about his back, not… “I…don’t think that would be a good idea, Ray.”

Ray bristles. “Why not? You don’t think I’m good enough?”

“Not at all, Ray, I didn’t mean to cast aspersions on your skill–“

“Then why the hell not?” Ray demands.

Fraser sighs. There’s no plausible excuse he can make. No, that’s not true. He can come up with something if he tries. But the thought of having Ray’s hands on him, even in this way, is too seductive to resist. “All right, Ray.”

Ray comes up behind him and puts his hand under Fraser’s suspenders, easing them down.

“...What?”

“I can’t do this right through cloth. Take your shirt off.”

Fraser closes his eyes again at those words, and starts painfully unbuttoning his shirt, sure he’s going to be damned for this.

Ray draws his shirt off his shoulders, letting it pool behind him on the chair, then digs his hands into Fraser’s shoulders.

Fraser can’t help a surprised grunt, as Ray digs his thumbs in on either side of his spine.

Then he groans, as Ray begins systematically kneading his shoulders.

“Told you I could do it,” Ray breathes in his ear, and Fraser has to exert all his control not to jump.

“Ah, yes,” he manages.

Truly, he’d never doubted that Ray would be good at this, despite his lack of formal training. His hands are beautiful, graceful, for all that they’re never still.

Ray moves down, his thumbs kneading on either side of Fraser’s spine, as his fingers dig into his sides. Fraser groans and lets his head fall forward as Ray finds the knot that’s been tormenting him.

Is it his imagination, or do Ray’s hands falter for a second? No, it must be.

“Sore there, huh?” Ray says, digging his fingers into the muscle.

“Yes,” Fraser grunts, as he realizes with dull horror that he’s having a reaction that he should have anticipated.

But he can’t bring himself to pull away, because the knot in his back is _finally_ relaxing, so he just sits in mute agony as he hardens in his pants.

It doesn’t help that when Ray finishes with the knot, he starts gliding his hands up and down Fraser’s back, not massaging, just touching.

“Ah, Ray–?”

“Right, sorry!” Ray says, pulling his hands away abruptly.

Fraser rolls his shoulders cautiously, not turning around or getting up. There’s no pull or catch in the movement. “Thank you Ray, that feels much better.”

“No problem, Frase.” He can feel the grin in Ray’s voice.

Fraser doesn’t move, and the silence stretches awkwardly.

“So, ah, my turn now?” Ray asks after a moment.

There’s no way he can touch Ray now without losing his control. He pulls his suspenders up over bare skin and abruptly stands, grateful for the looseness of his uniform pants.

“I’m sorry, Ray, but Inspector Thatcher has asked me to look over the security arrangements for the latest envoy from Ottawa, and she wants it as soon as possible, so–“

And he crowds Ray unceremoniously out of the office, ignoring his half-stammered protests.

He closes the door and listens to Ray’s breathing, then the footsteps fading into the distance, before he can finally, _finally_ yank his suspenders down, lean one hand against the wall near the door, unbutton his underwear and take himself in hand.

And the room, _Christ,_ still smells of Ray, and it takes no more than three quick, rough strokes before he’s spilling against the wall with a ragged groan pulled from the center of his chest.


End file.
